


Undertow

by iArgent



Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Spoilers, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 15:30:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20762657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iArgent/pseuds/iArgent
Summary: After Aphra takes De Sardet and Siora on her little spying mission, De Sardet needs time to think, and process his guilt at having participated. In his haste to avoid the scientist he enters the room not of his best friend, the Coin Guard, but a Naut Captain who makes De Sardet feel like hes drowning.





	Undertow

**Author's Note:**

> My 69th story isnt porn and I'm a DISGRACE 
> 
> anyway, written on my phone, after bullying it's way in front of all the other works I need to write. I'll edit later and add tags. 
> 
> Do ignore typos, autocorrect hates me.

De Sardet turned the corner so sharply his sleeve brushed the wall. He could still hear Aphra, and continued as quietly as he could, hand shooting out to open a door as he slinked inside.

He took a moment to breathe. 

He was…irritated? Upset? Offended?

De Sardet well understood Aphra’s curiosity and yet…hed been conned into following Dunncas and his Elders. Had stood in the shadows to spy, and felt the hot flush of shame the entire time.

What was he doing.

He knew, absolutely knew Aphra meant well. But her casual disregard for the Natives and their own privacy and culture had left him feeling like the back of his tongue was coated in live gunpowder. 

Very rarely did he feel at risk of snapping. Hikmets Governer being the exception. So he hid. He had to get himself back under control. His heart hammered in his chest and his throat and tongue felt hot as his cheeks.

Was Siora still upset? He wouldn’t blame her. He-

“Well. You look like you were left over when the tide washed out.” 

De Sardet pursed his lips and squeezed his eyes shut, still facing the door. 

The residence was small, only a few rooms, most of which his companions shared or had transformed into their own. Which was fine, De Sardet had no need for a study when his bedroom was large enough, so surrendering it to Petrus and Aphra to fight over his books wasn’t an issue. Siora had slipped into the dry storage, smiled, and began bringing in herbs and meat, brewing potions, and slowly it had become a small workshop and dwelling.  
Kurt had simply walked into the guestroom, said “I hope nobody has a problem with this, because I don’t care." And…made it his.  
Stupidly, De Sardet thought, he'd thought himself to be outside of Kurt’s room. 

He was a few steps early, and had slipped into a former sitting room. Now occupied by a bed, a chest of drawers, the old sofa, and the Naut Captain Vasco. He’d taken the room with a large window at the highest point he could.

De Sardet swallowed thickly. “Left behind when the tide washed out?” 

“Mm. Loose bits of seaweed, injured animals. Glass.” 

The natural growl of the Captains voice seemed light, and De Sardet knew despite the intrusion Vasco wouldn’t be angry. He was smart like that, taking in emotions they all barely realized themselves and offering a kind word. Nothing escaped the sharp eyed Captain, likely his regular handling of a tight knit crew had given him an edge. He was easily the most intuitive member of De Sardets party, always watching and plucking loose emotional strands away with ease.

“So I look like a dying fish?”

“Wouldn’t know, you’re not facing me. You do look like you’re bound too tight and broken at the middle though.” 

Blunt. Sort of mean if De Sardet were a normal member of the nobility. ‘hold me straight, then' was the first thought that came teetering into his mind like a drunk tavern wench after the Captain spoke, De Sardet bit it back. 

“Your time with Aphra didn’t go well I’d wager?” 

De Sardet signed and turned, letting his back rest on the door, drawing up one leg to place his foot on it as well, knee bent for some semblance of casual posture. “I…She seemed pleased. But-"

“You’re not. At all.” Vasco said, curiosity ringing his words as he stepped forward, a half smile tugging at his lips in startled bemusement. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you so…” he paused, blinking slowly “Upset?” he tasted the word like he still wasn’t happy with it.

De Sardet was distracted by the way he walked, one foot in front of the other in a line. It was darkening outside, and Vasco had lit a lantern, one half if his face swimming in shadowed lines as his tattoos were thrown into sharp relief on one side and softened and confused on the other, sun bleached hair shimmering and let down from its usual tail.

He jumped, just a little, when a large calloused hand gripped his chin and wrenched his face upward. Vasco had perhaps half a head on De Sardets own height and never let him forget it. Though he couldn’t work out if he minded, faced with sly golden eyes, hand impossibly warm on his jaw.

“Yes, upset us certainly a word for it.”

Vasco's eyes seemed to take in every aspect of De Sardet, slow calculation and quick flitting glances all at once, and De Sardet held his breath.

The Captain didn’t. They were close, a bit too close, and Vasco’s gentle breathing made De Sardet feel weak as a pup, eyes falling short of alert and that half smile pulling tighter on the Captains face as he huffed a silent laugh, his breath smelled of tea and mint, as ever. 

“So.” Vasco said, fingers loosening on De Sardets jaw leaving just the warm pressure of a cupping hand as the Legate felt his stomach try and wring itself out like a wet towel “Care to share?”

Share what? All De Sardet could think about was the hidden strength in the hand at his jaw, how adept he’d seen the Captain yank ropes in high wind, his clever eyes and handsome face, the swirl of ink he’d once seen on his belly when the Captain had lifted the hem of his shirt to mop his face after an intense spar. 

“Uh.”

“Illuminating.” And Vasco stepped back, hand sliding from De Sardets jaw. The Legate holding an involuntary shiver as all the heat of the Captains body left, he'd barely realized how warm he was until he was gone.

“I…can’t seem to remember what I was…”

Vasco blinked and sighed softly through his nose. “I’m not of the mind to remind you.” He finally said, tone flippant “However if you’re feeling better you may want to retire to your own room.”

“Oh! Yes! My apologies I didn’t mean to intrude. I am feeling better. I’ll go.”

“Feeling better is short of feeling good, but if you’re willing to settle.”

De Sardet felt a little dizzy, the heat, the scent of tea which, thank you Captain, he can not drink any linger without imagining skin flushed between swirling tattoos. He’d never seen the image but he was imaginative, and his mind refused to let it go. Slight confusion as to whatever was being offered here was secondary. The Legate nodded and reached behind him to grope blindly for the handle of the door.

His breath picked up after a solid second of not finding it, he went to remove his foot from the door only to find Vasco pressed solidly to his front in an instant, hard lines pressed tight to him. De Sardet looked up at the sharp underside of the Captains tense jaw, mouth still curled in a small smile, and his stomach was twisting again, a sharp breath making the smile wider, and then he was falling, landing on the floor in the hallway, and the door was clicking shut.

Heart hammering again and breath uncomfortably fast De Sardet opened his eyes, everything a but too bright and fuzzy and too much.

And Kurt, staring down at him like he was simultaneously a lost animal and the funniest joke he’d ever been told.

“Get up, Geeenblood.” He scoffed, lips pressed tight together as the corners twitched. “You look like you almost got eaten by a shark.”

“I…no? I merely misjudged how far down the way I was. I was looking for you.”

Kurt raised his brows and jerked De Sardet to his feet. “I hope not, Greenblood.” 

Confused, De Sardet opened his mouth to ask what that even meant , only to be pulled down the hallway, Kurt swung De Sardets own room door open and mockingly bowed an invitation to enter. 

“Uh. Thank you?”

Kurt placed a hand on his back and shoved the Legate in with a firm, but gentle push. “I room next to the Sailor. You get eaten, you do it in here.”

“What?!”

And the door closed, the sound of Kurt whistling a tune broken by his hidden laughter fading as he walked away.

De Sardet was left standing in his dark room, cheeks stained red, trying to work through the last half hour if his life.


End file.
